


The Minotaur Incident

by Raine_Wynd



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer (TV), Highlander: The Series
Genre: Community: crossovers100, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Gen, Random Encounters, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-10
Updated: 2019-12-10
Packaged: 2021-02-25 21:33:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21742252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Raine_Wynd/pseuds/Raine_Wynd
Summary: A conversation about living.
Relationships: Buffy Summers & Cory Raines, Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 16





	The Minotaur Incident

**Author's Note:**

> I began this - oh, probably about ten years ago or so, and then forgot it, and kept noodling on it off and on for years, hoping to make something work. It began life as a story for the crossovers100 challenge on LiveJournal, prompt #32: sunset.

“I could have you a new identity, new place to live, if you just say the word,” Cory declared quietly, watching the blonde-haired woman who kept the porch swing tilted at a perfect angle with her foot, propped against the porch railing. A small part of him hated the thought of someone so young, beautiful, and courageous fighting the fight she did. The bigger part of him knew, however, he was a sucker for charity cases and hopeless causes. He’d help her or die trying. He’d stepped out of a bar into an alley, intending to smoke a cigar, in time to see her being chased down the alley by a minotaur, of all things.

The memory of that fight made Cory shudder. The alley dead-ended, and the blonde had tried to swing a sword at the minotaur, hoping to slice one of the horns off. Instead, the blonde had been gored by one of the minotaur’s horns. Cory had flung his throwing knives into the minotaur’s flesh, hoping to slow the creature down. His effort had only resulted the minotaur turning his attention to Cory. Cory resorted to using his sword to kill the monster before rushing to the blonde’s side. Four hours later, and the only evidence of her wounds were the tattered red sweater she wore and the blood-stained bandage Cory had applied to her left breast. At the rate she was healing, she would be healed by sunset, ready once more to fight vampires, demons, and wayward ghosts.

She didn’t even turn her head but kept staring out at the riot of color spilling out across the front lawn.

“I could,” she acknowledged. “Won’t stop the demons. They live everywhere, you know. Even if the pool of Slayers is bigger now, there’s a price on my head, still. I’m the first Slayer to live this long, despite dying three times.”

“Sweetheart, I know how to hide you.” He took the step towards her. “Come on, give me some credit.”

“Why, so you can steal twice the amount?” Buffy asked dryly. “I’ll be fine, trust me.” She looked at him, her eyes older than her chronological age. “But if you’re offering to buy me dinner, make me promises you don’t intend to keep, and take me to bed, I’d rather skip to the bed part and call it even.”

Cory pursed his lips, then shrugged. He could find a willing blonde to warm his bed anywhere he chose. Instinct told him that trying to seduce this blonde out of her convictions would be disastrous. He switched tactics. “Okay, but a minotaur in New Orleans? Did someone try to call on the old Greek gods?”

Buffy grimaced. “Yes. They’re horrible when they answer, because they find humans infinitely amusing. Releasing a minotaur was supposed to be part of a hero’s challenge, except the hero chickened out and then called his best friend, who happens to be a Slayer, but we only discovered her last week, so what was supposed to be me coming out here to meet the New Orleans Slayer, figure out if she’s capable and trainable, etc., etc. turned out to be me running for my life from a goddamned minotaur.” She paused. “Nice attempt with the throwing knives, and have I thanked you yet?”

Cory grinned. “Twice while you were simultaneously apologizing for bleeding all over me.” He sobered. “Buffy, take a vacation. Be someone else for a while. The fact you were here to meet another Slayer means you aren’t the only Slayer alive. Not like the last Slayer I met back in the 1600s, who was the only one in her generation.”

“No.” She released the tension on the porch swing and stood. “Problem is that the vamps can tell when a Slayer is near. Some demons too.”

“What would you have me do, Buffy?” Cory asked. “If you don’t want to run and hide – and trust me, if someone’s asking the Greek gods for favors, now’s the time to get out of the city.”

She slanted a look at him. “Voice of experience?”

“I may have stolen a few ancient artifacts I should have left where they were,” Cory admitted. “And I may have learned a few things about magic and faith in gods I wish I hadn’t learned the hard way. Like: being an old-line Catholic doesn’t help when the god who wants to kill you is hungry for followers.”

She chuckled softly at that. “I can imagine. They get weirdly possessive about that stuff.”

“So while we’ve agreed sex is not off the menu for tonight–”

Buffy grimaced as she put her palms up, underscoring her words. “Probably wiser if we didn’t, given the way all my lovers have turned out to be problems for me. Given what you’ve told me about yourself, you admit to being trouble, and that’s just both sexy as hell and dangerous for me.”

He conceded that with a rueful smile. “Doesn’t mean I won’t stop flirting unless you tell me to stop,” he cautioned her.

“No, I’m enjoying being the center of your attention,” she assured him.

“But even with all that, you don’t want what else I can do for you, like a new identity and something more than some time to rest and heal in a place where you aren’t worried about protecting your back. Which leaves me to wonder what can I do for you?” 

Buffy closed her eyes briefly. “Maybe I just needed someone to tell me I’m not crazy for wanting to say, ‘fuck destiny.’”

Cory barked a laugh. “You’re talking to the original Robin Hood, sweetheart. I’ve been telling destiny to fuck off for seven centuries now.”

Buffy looked at him, eyes wide. “Seriously? You were Robin Hood?”

He made a courtly bow. “Corwin a’Green, at your service.”

She favored him with a look. “And who was the sheriff of Nottingham?”

“A former knight turned lawman named Matthew,” Cory replied. “If nothing else, let me call him. He’ll give you some protection.”

“What I need,” Buffy said carefully, “is about a year’s worth of sleep. But if getting killed by a minotaur and coming back to life means I’m immortal now – and not immortal like you are but a different immortal thanks to what my friends and I did to close the Hellmouth – then I guess I’d better figure out what that means.” She studied him. “And you look relieved I’m not your kind of immortal.”

“My kind plays a duel to the death in the name of knowledge and power,” Cory noted quietly. “From the way you’ve been healing, I’m guessing whatever you have is more elemental.” He paused. “Like whatever made you is giving you a reward for unleashing the potentials. Or making sure you live to see a future, one where you’re not as alone or having to carry the weight of the world on your shoulders.”

Buffy grimaced at that. “In my work, rewards always have strings attached.” She stood, a petite blond woman in a tattered red sweater and jeans. “But if you’re up to guarding my back, I should check on the cemeteries here.”

“Sucker bet, Buffy; we’re in New Orleans,” Cory told her. “And maybe that’s why you’re immortal now. The balance of power could be off here, with so many dead haunting the city, and the way it’s steeped in magic.”

Buffy considered. “In that case, I need reinforcements.” She breathed deep. “I don’t believe in casual coincidences. Do you?”

“No,” Cory told her honestly. “Did you drive out here?”

“Took the Greyhound from New Sunnydale. I can drive, but I technically never got a driver’s license because I was too busy with Slaying, and my credit’s horrible since the only bank account I ever had was at the Bank of Sunnydale.”

“What are you thinking you should do?”

“Go back, get my friends,” Buffy admitted. “But I don’t have any cash, and I’d rather not go back to the same drama I left.” She grimaced. “Which will of course be worse because I left.”

“What kind of reinforcements do you need?”

“People who can stake someone and not flinch at the dust. Someone who isn’t afraid to hunt in a graveyard for the unholy dead. A witch, if you know one, on the side of good, or a priest who can bless holy water and religious symbols.” She made a face. “And if this city honors its ghosts, then some will be pissed off I’m trying to make them go away. I don’t care as much about the ghosts; they usually don’t torment people the way the vamps and demons do.”

“Would a former priestess of Diana work?”

Buffy blinked. “You know one?”

Cory grinned. “I do.”

“That would help a lot,” Buffy enthused. “If she can get here in the next two days. My gut says whatever’s going to happen will happen in the next forty-eight hours.”

“Let me call a few friends,” Cory told her. “You can stay here with me until they arrive. I’ll get you a cell phone and anything else you need in the morning; no sense in trying your luck tonight.”

“You’re afraid I haven’t healed enough and someone will cut off my head,” Buffy accused him.

“Beheading works, and extremely well,” he countered soberly. “And while the Kurgan found someone to Frankenstein his head back on, he’s the only exception I know of. You may not be so lucky. I’d rather not be known as the idiot who let the original Slayer die when he could’ve done something. My rep’s bad enough as it is.”

“Right: thief, irresponsible, not to be trusted.” She eyed him. “Which I can see from here is marketing propaganda, so people don’t come to you for help.”

Cory grinned. “If I’d heard of your plight from someone else, I’d have passed on the opportunity. No offense.”

“None taken. So why are you?”

“Because I was born in an age of chivalry.” He shrugged. “And it’s been a long time since I went hunting for things like vampires and demons.” He flashed a scamp’s smile. “Should be fun.” His smile faded as he studied the young woman who had, in the space of the last several hours, turned his carefully laid plans to dust. “Come on, let me look at that bandage and see if I can find you something better to wear than that sweater. We can plan out strategy and who to call for reinforcements over dinner.”

Nodding, Buffy followed him into the house.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments, constructive criticism, suggestions, and kudos always welcome, no matter the age of the fic.


End file.
